


Just know that I'll come running

by claquesous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kissing, M/M, Porn With Plot, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Reconciliation Sex, Rimming, Ysalamiri (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 06:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14563455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claquesous/pseuds/claquesous
Summary: “Ysalamiri are Force-resistant. They evolved it as a defense mechanism against Force-sensitive predators. If I’m anywhere within thirty feet of this charming little rat, you can’t do anything to me.” His doting gaze on the creature transitions seamlessly to a derisive smirk at Ren.





	Just know that I'll come running

**Author's Note:**

> I despise the Millicent the Cat trope, so I fixed it. Then ensued porn. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> "You Should Have Killed Me When You Had the Chance" by A Day to Remember is the story of TLJ Kylux. Just so you're aware.

It jerks Ren out of his meditation immediately. As he settles back into his physical body he examines the disturbance like a fading scent. It’s Hux. Hux is…

Hux is gone. There’s nothing there. Which might just be unusual, since the General never leaves his ship, except that Ren can only assume it was an instantaneous change that caught his attention. The only thing Ren can come up with is that Hux has just been killed.

He sits there like an idiot for minutes. Trying to scrape together enough information to draw a conclusion, no matter how unlikely. Usually in the seconds or minutes before a life blinks out, there is distress, upheaval. That’s how it was with Luke’s other apprentices. A great flare of panic and sometimes defiance before Ren clove their spirits from their bodies.

Hux didn’t panic, didn’t put up a fight. Ren would have felt it. He’s simply… not there.

Ren finally stands, abruptly, and barely remembers to put on his tunic before leaving his quarters to investigate. It takes him a few minutes to find Hux's quarters. He knows relative to himself where Hux sleeps, but the Finalizer is a maze.

He forces the door open without even thinking about buzzing in or comming for Hux. Warp the latch mechanisms two ways, and he’s in without too much obvious damage to the door. It’s not until he’s five feet into the room that he realizes Hux is standing at his desk, and he only notices that because a horrible numbing sensation has swallowed him up and frozen him mid-step.

“What—?” Ren says. It sounds like a gasp because he’s too caught off guard even to take a breath before it comes out of his mouth.

Hux is very much alive, and grinning. He doesn’t seem upset by Ren’s invasion, just amused. And _seem_ is the best Ren’s got to go on. There’s complete silence from Hux; no thoughts, not even the general flavor of his mood. And he’s got some kind of—animal—on his—

“Do you know what this is?” Hux asks smugly, turning so that the thing draped over his shoulder is fully visible. It looks like a badly stuffed child’s toy, but then its head cocks and Ren notices two eyes peering sidelong at him.

“What the fuck is that?” Ren asks stupidly.

“This is an ysalamir, Ren,” Hux says cheerfully.

Ren backs up, panicking, hoping whatever has clogged his mind is localized and not permanent. He backs all the way up to the forced-shut door. To his colossal relief he can hear and see and smell with the Force again. Just… not Hux. Hux is still a silhouette of conspicuously absent intention.

Hux takes a leisurely pair of steps forward, and it’s gone. Ren has to force himself to breathe normally. Every movement feels hypothetical, like his foot is asleep and he has to trust that it’s doing as it's told.

“Shit, fuck, Hux, what have you—?”

Hux just cackles. “This is even better than I’d hoped,” he confesses. “I had no idea you’d come _running_ as soon as I dropped off the radar.”

Ren shoves aside some of his disorientation to snarl, “I thought you were dead.” Hux’s smile just widens. “Of course I came running.”

Hux’s mouth pinches into something like a grimace. “Are you just listening to me all the time?”

Ren’s pressing back against the door even as he tries and fails to connect to the Force around him. He knows it’s still there, it _has_ to be, but he can’t feel it and he sure as hell can’t do anything with it. “It’s… more like a radar,” he manages finally. Hux doesn't need to know how often he's doing just that. “A light went out.”

“And you came to see why,” Hux muses. “Fascinating.” He looks down his nose at the lumpy thing on his shoulder, which still hasn’t resolved itself into a shape that makes sense to Ren. It has a head, with, assuming it’s symmetrical, two pairs of eyes and a grotesquely far-reaching smile of a mouth, a fat tail, and Ren can’t for the life of him decide whether the rest of it is all or none of the above.

“What the fuck,” Ren repeats, “is that.”

Hux rolls his eyes. “Ysalamiri are Force-resistant. They evolved it as a defense mechanism against Force-sensitive predators. If I’m anywhere within thirty feet of this charming little rat, you can’t do anything to me.” His doting gaze on the creature transitions seamlessly to a derisive smirk at Ren.

Ren’s lightsaber is in his hand and crackling to life before he can react in any other way, physically or mentally. “Watch me,” he snarls.

Hux's smirk thins. “Surely you're not that stupid,” he says, and it's convincing enough that Ren deactivates the lightsaber after a charged moment.

“Well, you're—busy,” Ren finally manages, and turns to force the door back out of his way.

Hux's chuckle follows him all the way back to his quarters.

* * *

Hux is mildly worried that he'll kill it, to be honest. There's very little information about their domestication or husbandry to be had, regardless of the credits he was willing to pay for it. Beside the budget for _cleaning_ a mechanism as big as Starkiller, the few tens of thousands of credits for this ysalamir is negligible, but Hux still would rather not go through the trouble again. They have to be delicately extracted from their natural environment, stabilized, sedated, and smuggled. He entertained thoughts of acquiring a breeding pair only briefly before it became clear keeping them alive and healthy was the very best he could hope to do.

But he's determined to do at least that. He orders olbio leaves in bulk at exorbitant rates and feeds it whenever it will eat, which is more or less constantly. Until it becomes positively obese, Hux will not be satisfied that he's spoiling it enough. And spoil it he must: The sheer magnitude of his peace of mind knowing Ren isn't in it is worth ten times what he paid for the little creature, to say nothing of the impossibility of further public humiliation by Force assault. He even takes it planetside next time the _Finalizer_ is in orbit and gets it checked out by an exotic vet. The vet is useless with ysalamiri specifically, but can at least tell Hux that it's female and not starving to death.

She, then. Hux realizes after about three weeks that he has become alarmingly fond of the thing. She's a comforting, warm weight on his shoulder and he's taken to twirling her stubby tail around his finger when he feels particularly petty. She's finally starting to eat the waxy leaves out of his palm. She even seems to enjoy it when he scratches under her chin. The only thing he hasn’t done is name it.

And best of all, Ren won't come near him. Hux would have turned over three times again what he had paid if he'd known the ysalamir would keep Ren at a minimum physical distance of fifty feet.

One thing she can’t do, unfortunately, is keep Ren from taking out his frustrations on Hux’s ship. Honestly, he’s already cost Hux a fucking planet; the least he could do is refrain from chipping away at the _Finalizer_ from the inside out. One of these days Hux isn’t going to be surprised when bodies start joining the fried consoles.

The last straw is when Ren takes out Hux’s favorite conference room. It wasn’t any nicer than the other ones, but it always seemed to be the closest whenever he needed one and the equipment in there never pulled technical difficulties on him.

And Ren has to go and destroy it. And since he still hasn’t come to his senses and stepped down, Hux has to tell Ren to cut it out while pretending to be his subordinate and hope that he doesn’t whip out the lightsaber again at the sight of him.

Hux gives a forlorn sigh outside the audience chambers Ren has appropriated in the _Finalizer_ , which itself had been appropriated on the _Supremacy_ ’s… division. Never mind that there is literally no point to an audience chamber now that the audience has killed the host.

The new set of Praetorian guards, which were provided without comment or question upon Ren’s request, let Hux in after a moment of what seems to be moody contemplation. Hux wonders how they feel about their own odds after what happened to their predecessors. He breezes past them like he isn’t furious, like he isn’t embarrassed, like he isn’t confused, like he isn’t sullen. He’s not furious, he’s not embarrassed, he’s not confused, he’s not sullen.

“Hux.” Ren’s voice booms. Hux had almost forgotten what his naked voice sounds like. The intimacy of it makes him uncomfortable, in the same socially squeamish way as public nudity, even when they're the only two here.

Hux nervously strokes the end of his ysalamir’s tail before realizing it may come across as spiteful. These things were used to ward off Jedi for centuries, even if Ren hadn’t seemed to know that.

“Get to the point,” Ren finally says. “I can’t cheat to tell what you’re here for.” He's sprawled over the blocky marble throne like he needs every inch of it. He is much better at taking up the space than Snoke was, Hux will admit, but it's still too big. Instead of making him look grandiose it makes him look like a toddler in a booster seat.

Hux smiles tightly. “It’s to do with your… repeated vandalism,” he says. He knows he’s toeing the line, or at least where most dictators’ lines would be. He just can’t bring himself to care. At least Ren will have to get out of his _seat_ to kill him.

Ren chuckles. Hux stomps down a hot flare of anger, but not before it can occur to his feet to walk a few paces forward.

He knows as soon as he crosses the line. Ren jerks forward in his seat, his head lowered and his shoulders tightening up. “Get back,” he hisses. Hux can tell it’s all he can do not to leap out of the chair and run behind it.

Hux smirks, feeling strangely detached from himself, and doesn’t move.

“ _Back_ ,” Ren spits, cringing back in his seat. “I’ll call—”

“I’m going to need you to stop destroying my ship,” Hux says calmly, his pulse thundering in his ears.

“Fine, just—”

Hux steps back, and it’s like someone cut Ren’s strings. He melts back into the chair, his head sagging.

“Fuck, why can’t you put that _thing_ somewhere else?” All Ren’s composure is gone, along with his complacent superiority, to Hux's immense satisfaction. He’s leaning forward in the chair now, puffed out like a cat.

“It’s a defense mechanism,” Hux says flatly. “Against you.”

Ren gives a pained scowl. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not going to do anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous?” Hux repeats. “I’m not the one that repeatedly threw you across a room.”

Ren has the gall to chuckle. “I can’t even imagine a Force-sensitive Hux. You’d be a terror.”

“Unfortunately, in _this_ universe the terror is you,” Hux snarls, “so I’m trying to adapt.”

“Hux, you don’t— _honestly_ —”

“Think you would, given half the opportunity, humiliate me on the bridge of my own fucking ship? Absolutely, I do.”

“Not _now_ , though. Snoke is dead and the world isn’t ending and the girl isn’t here and nobody else is here.”

Ren sounds so reasonable. He must think so, Hux supposes; he’s the worst liar in the galaxy.

“Why would I be any safer now than I was then? What’s to stop you from flying into a fit of rage over these very words and throwing an extrasensory tantrum?”

“Hux,” Ren says. He looks and sounds utterly bewildered, and it makes Hux unbelievably furious. “We’re—”

“If you say equals, I will find a way to glue this rat to your forehead,” Hux snarls. “You really are the naive idiot Snoke took you for if you honestly think you and I are operating on a level playing field.”

“What about before?” Ren asks quietly.

“Before what? Before you publicly assaulted me?”

“You know what. Before, when we trusted each other.”

Hux lets out a hysterical laugh. “I have never trusted you.”

“Fine,” Ren says sullenly. “When I trusted you.”

Hux is silent.

“You’re always telling me I can't lie. You know I trusted you.”

Hux supposes he thought the period of time when the two of them operated at minimum caution around each other had been effectively erased from history when Kylo choked him. Hux had certainly resolved at that moment to behave as if he had never felt anything but contempt for the man in front of him.

Ren is still leaning forward but not quite so tense, more interrogative than aggressive. “Didn’t you want to trust me?”

Hux’s silence is broken by the unadulterated stupidity of this question. “It’s not _trust_ when you can stick your dirty little fingers in my head at will and browse my fucking intentions,” Hux spits. “I would _love_ to trust you the same way you trusted me.”

Ren wilts under this onslaught, and it spurs Hux on even as it lights this horrible swamp of guilt under his ass. He ignores the more uncomfortable feeling as usual, doubly grateful that Ren has no back door into his mind. “It was _convenient_. So much so that I didn't end it when I should have. You've ensured my regret on that score.”

“I know how much you needed it,” Ren insists, stubborn but subdued.

“I'm sure I _thought_ so when I was being fucked too hard to think straight.”

Ren’s face turns a blotchy red. “That's not all it was.”

Hux sighs. “Grow up, Ren.” He’s done retroactively negotiating their non-relationship. He turns to leave, but there are a few slapping footsteps and Ren must have leapt out of his chair _toward_ Hux, because strong hands grab him and swivel him forcibly around.

For an eternal moment, Ren's looming over him and panting in his face. It's a lot. He smells too much like six weeks ago and the hands heavy on Hux's hips feel too much like six weeks ago, and it's been six fucking weeks and Hux (briefly) wants Ren more than he hates him. In the seconds of weakness where Hux doesn't fling Ren away from him, Ren kisses him.

 _God_ , it's been so long. It had been much longer since he'd been laid when Kylo first kissed him, but this feels _worse_. Like he needs it more now than he did then. Ren's so careful, and that's not even the way Hux likes it but it's Ren, and he's trying to apologize, and god help him if it isn't dangerously close to endearing.

But goddamn it, he doesn't _need_ Kylo Ren, and he's going to act like he doesn't fucking want him. Hux turns his face away rather than trying to repel this monster of a man with brute force, and his chin brushes the ysalamir. She hasn't moved. In fact, she seems totally unaware of anything but some mild swaying. Ren misunderstands and licks at his neck for a moment before pulling back, his face dark.

Hux twists his neck to examine the ysalamir. Delayed fury rises up his throat as he realizes Ren no longer seems deterred. It’s worked for _weeks_ , but of course anything that protects him in any capacity from Kylo Ren is too good to be true.

Hux slaps Ren across the face, hard. At the very least Ren has the grace to _pretend_ it doesn't give him an instantaneous erection. He only looks resigned, like he knows he deserves it. Hux turns on his heel and stalks out of the throne room without interception.

* * *

Hux gently pulls the ysalamir’s thorn-like claws from his greatcoat’s shoulder and lets her crawl into the little nest he's made her. She weaves into the hide with her characteristic deliberate slowness. Hux crafted her an ugly little shelter of scraps of stiff uniform cloth and half a caved-in trooper helmet—the cleanest things he'd found on a very short trip to the waste and sanitation level. Only her pudgy little trail peeks out of the little tent, which whisks away when he pets it.

It really is a shame. Hux likes the creature too much to get rid of her now; she almost certainly would not survive a return trip to Myrkr without the expertise of the exotics smugglers who had shipped her here. As far as he knows it's a miracle she's still alive, let alone eating. (Apparently that's the first thing to go when they're distressed, which seems counterproductive to Hux.)

But neither does it make sense to carry her around all the time if her Ren-repellent qualities are inconstant. He supposes he will just have to build her a nicer house, since she'll be there all the time. He sighs.

She also needs a name. He finds he's been toying with a few subconsciously: the ones that float effortlessly to the surface are Millicent and Briony. The second sounds like the name a thirteen year old would give their first horse, he thinks with disgust, and discards it. Millicent is sturdy, respectable, stately. Best of all, he's never actually met a real Millicent, and this point is highly unlikely to.

He looks at the nest contemplatively. He can hear her crunching up her leaves. Millicent. It's a little ridiculous, but that hasn't stopped Hux often. A little stuffy, but so is he.

The door buzzes. Hux turns to glare at it, hoping to the gods of every pantheon past, present, and future that it's not Kylo fucking Ren and knowing it probably is. He had hoped for a little more time to regroup before the next assault.

He lets whoever is cool their heels for a minute. After about thirty consecutive seconds of silence, he decides it can't be Ren. He opens it just as poor Mitaka is mustering his courage for a second buzz.

Hux sighs. “What is it?”

Mitaka shrinks a little. “Kylo Ren has—”

“Oh, what does it matter?” Hux says cheerfully. “What's another conference room between friends? Another security panel? Let him know he can just go ahead and launch his shuttle into hyperspace straight for us.”

Mitaka looks unsurprised but still unprepared for this outburst. “Sir, he's currently…” he looks down at his datapad as if pleading it to rephrase so he doesn't have to say it aloud. “He's currently beheading anyone who attempts to enter one of the mess halls.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Hux snarls, and pulls out his comm. Of course Ren would come to the conclusion that a public disturbance would best secure his attention. Of course Ren couldn't just use words like a fucking adult.

He growls into the comm point blank, “Ren, you will come to my quarters at once.” Mitaka coughs. Yes, Hux supposes that was an unreasonable request in reasonable circumstances, but nothing is reasonable when it comes to Kylo Ren. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Hux says curtly. Mitaka flees.

He doesn't wait long. Hux idly wonders how many people overheard his comm. Nobody is stupid  enough to repeat it, but they don't have to repeat it to jump to conclusions and repeat those.

The door buzzes. Hux takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He's not sure bringing Ren to his quarters was a good idea. Actually, he knows exactly what kind of an idea it was. But it's also the only place on his ship where he has any remaining power. Maybe Ren will fucking listen.

He opens the door on a sweaty, tousled Kylo, who does, for the moment, look contrite.

“What the fuck?” Hux asks succinctly.

Kylo steps inside without invitation and falls to his knees.

Hux looks down at him, annoyance climbing steadily each second he just sits there like a moping teenager.

“What the fuck do you want?” Hux asks finally. “You have my attention.”

Kylo turns his face up defiantly. “It's not broken,” he says. “I just…”

“What?” Hux asks, even as he comprehends. “What?” he snaps again, incensed.

Kylo shrugs unhappily. “I just needed to touch you.”

This, Hux digests in stages. First: those backwater smugglers were not, in fact, lying sacks of shit. Second: Millicent is _more than thirty feet away_ and therefore not armed. Hux is staggering backward toward his bed and the ysalamir's roost when, third: Ren willingly walked into total Force-blindness for Hux. This stops him in his tracks, and Ren shoots to his feet triumphantly.

“You do care,” Kylo says quietly. “You don't want to, but you do.”

Hux isn't sure whether to be furious that sex is apparently the only motivator greater than total psychic impotence or flattered that Ren is that fucked up over him. He's right, after all.

Ren grins like he's trying not to laugh and dares to step forward and slide his hand through Hux’s hair behind his head. “You don't understand.”

“No, I bloody well don't,” Hux agrees crossly, but he doesn't move, breathing in the scent of six weeks ago. He allows his mind to revisit their last night together for the first time since the attack on Crait. Kylo fucking deep into Hux and then trying to swallow him up in a human cocoon in the stuffy heat of afterglow. _Pick one_ , Hux remembers thinking.

“I'm not getting rid of the ysalamir,” he says finally.

Kylo responds instantly. He dips his head and hisses, “I don't care,” into Hux's mouth before kissing him deeply. “Not if—you let me do this.”

Hux gasps as Kylo grabs a handful of his ass and grinds their hips together.

“Fine,” is all Hux can manage. He _needs_ too badly to put up more of a fight, not when Kylo will willingly trade the Force for Hux, at least temporarily. It's fucking with his head, the implications of that.

Kylo whines, and Hux realizes his head isn't off-limits anymore. “Bed,” Hux demands. He feels Kylo's full-body shudder as they enter the ysalamir's circle of safety, but he doesn't drop Hux and he doesn't hesitate.

Kylo tosses Hux into bed with an ease that arouses him as much as it infuriates him. Hux struggles upright, but before he can get truly cross, Kylo kneels between his knees. Hux twists a handful of Ren's hair around his fingers and wrenches his head back. He watches hungrily as Ren’s Adam's apple bobs furiously and his throat convulses.

“You're going to put my cock in your mouth and beg for forgiveness with it,” he says finally.

“Please,” Kylo agrees breathlessly. He looks warily up at Hux and then reaches up to unfasten his pants, movements getting sloppier and more hurried by the second. When Kylo finally gets his hand on his dick, Hux has to bite back a moan. Bloody hell, he's useless. Six weeks without a lay and he's a fucking virgin again.

Kylo plants a hand on Hux's chest tentatively. Hux's breath forgets how to go in and out for a second as he lets Kylo push him down and hike his legs over his shoulders after shucking off his pants.

Kylo's hands are maddeningly gentle on his cock, sweeping up over his fluttering stomach occasionally. His hands slide down his legs and back up like he's comparing Hux with the version he memorized six weeks ago. Hux is almost as embarrassed as he is aroused, squirming and whining as Kylo sprinkles sensory stimuli all over his body.

Ren's so stingy with touch that Hux sobs when he finally bites inside his thigh and sucks, his stubble burning against Hux's sensitive skin.

“ _God_ , damn it,” Hux gasps. He's so hard and Kylo will not touch him and he's just too fucking tired to compose himself. He feels like he's leaking air like a shuttle about to explode. When all Kylo does is kiss the promised hickey, Hux snaps.

“Ren, you have three minutes to make me come, and you're going to fucking swallow.”

Kylo grins like someone who's been caught red-handed doing something they’re actually quite proud of. “Yes sir,” he growls, and laps tentatively at the head of his dick with his tongue. Hux gropes blindly for his hair and pulls his head closer.

A ragged moan comes from deep in Hux's chest when Kylo finally puts his mouth to good use. God, very good use, all teasing hot breath and then suddenly all fat, wet lips along his aching dick with the added torture of his tongue.

It's downhill from there. Kylo's wound him up longer and tighter than usual. It doesn't take much more than the sudden, efficient strokes of his hand and the suction of his mouth channeling Hux's pleasure up and out and down Kylo's throat.

Hux breathes out Kylo's name and rakes his nails up his scalp as he comes. “Kylo,” he wheezes again. “Fuck. Come here.”

Kylo stands slowly for dramatic effect, and damn him, it works. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and makes sure to arch his neck so Hux can see him swallow.

Then he leans in and Hux is sliding up the bed with no obvious driving force as Kylo kisses him, which totally wrecks that train of thought. Hux can taste come on him, and sweat, and _Kylo_ , and he growls.

“I didn't realize you were that close,” Kylo murmurs against his mouth.

“What?” Hux asks. It's completely incomprehensible from inside Kylo's mouth.

Kylo sucks on his tongue for a moan and pulls back, smiling lazily. “I usually cheat.”

Hux stares with his mouth open, first because Kylo has stopped kissing him without warning and then because—

“Are you fucking serious?”

Kylo's eyes crinkle up. “You didn't know?”

“No, I didn't know you were _spying on me_ when we had sex,” Hux sputters.

Kylo cocks his head. “When was the last time we talked this much?”

“During sex? We don't. Your mouth has better things to do.”

Kylo chuckles. “Exactly.” He kisses Hux again, successfully evading consequences for this ill-timed revelation by fitting a hand firmly around Hux’s throat, a titillation rather than a threat. Hux moans again.

“I hate you,” he groans as Kylo’s kisses start to slide down his body.

“Lube?” is all Kylo has to say to this.

Hux glares at the ceiling. Ludicrously, it’s the fact that he has to go retrieve lube with his own two hands that makes him half start to reconsider the ysalamir. He shakes his head and starts to push Kylo’s head away so he can reach the bedside table. “You know what?” he says instead. “I think you can do plenty with your mouth first.”

Kylo’s head comes up indignantly. “I already have!”

Hux pushes his head back down. “You get to do some more.” He slings his legs back over Kylo’s shoulders.

Kylo yanks him toward the edge of the bed. “Fine,” he growls, and shoves Hux’s legs up out of his way.

“Oh, my god,” Hux says immediately. He’s forgotten. He hadn’t made Kylo do this nearly often enough.

After the initial surprise attack, Kylo beats around the bush for entirely too long. Apparently he errs on the side of caution when he can’t spy and cheat. He’s kissing and drooling all over Hux’s ass before he even touches him. Hux shouts when Kylo bites him hard enough to leave unambiguous marks up the back of his thigh, and thrashes free of Kylo’s grip. He gets his legs around Kylo’s head and squeezes his thighs around his neck, glaring. “Eat me out, fuck me, or leave my goddamn quarters.”

Kylo raises his eyebrows, grinning.

“Any other night, you can tease me until my balls drop off,” Hux promises. “I need you to _touch_ me. Now.” It doesn't feel real yet, he doesn't say.

Kylo shrugs free of Hux's thighs with insulting ease. He spreads him open with hands that cover his entire ass and thrusts his tongue in as far as it will go.

“Oh, _fuck_ , god,” Hux babbles, trying not to squirm out of Kylo's grip.

Kylo works him open until he can take three fingers, despite Hux's increasingly shrill demands that he put his cock inside him, _now._  Only after Hux hands him lube will Kylo pull himself back up to kiss Hux.

“Cock. In my ass. Now,” Hux pants.

“Yes, sir,” Kylo purrs, stroking Hux's dick back to hot, tight attention. He lets go of Hux to align himself and slide carefully in.

Hux's mouth falls open as soon as Kylo pushes in and continues to open wider as Kylo keeps going deeper. “Holy fucking shit,” he gasps. When Kylo stops, he yanks at his hair viciously until he gets a move on.

Historically, Hux hasn’t been able to make Kylo fuck him properly if he’s in any amount of pain. No matter that a healthy amount of pain makes the sex better, as he explained many times. Kylo seemed to know exactly how much pain Hux was in, and would not indulge Hux's pleas for a pounding until he was completely relaxed. His sixth sense for ass health should have tipped Hux off long ago; nobody was that good at reading Hux, not even Kylo.

This hurts. He hasn't been properly fucked in over a month and Kylo is fucking hung and he’s suffering from the same lack of self-control Hux is, and it hurts. It’s without a doubt the best he's ever felt.

“Hux,” Kylo murmurs into his ear. It's a soft thing, awed and a little surprised, and Hux realizes when he stops making it that a long, thin whine was coming out of his mouth.

“Ren,” Hux shoots back a little defensively. He'd be blushing if he didn't have better things to do, like hitch his legs around Kylo's waist so he can thrust deeper.

Kylo bites his ear reproachfully. “Armitage.”

Hux wrinkles his nose even as the fuller motion of Kylo's hips makes his eyes roll back in his head. “Don't call me that.”

“Don't call me Ren,” he counters, wrapping one enormous hand around Hux's cock.

Hux shudders and turns his head to intercept Kylo's mouth at his neck. He dives into the kiss, trying to cease existence outside of this room. There's nothing but Kylo's come-slick lips and his hot, soft tongue and his thumb teasing the head of Hux's cock and his dick rearranging Hux's goddamn insides.

“Is it good?” Kylo rumbles against his lips an eternity later. He's shrugged one of Hux’s legs over his shoulder and is running his hand along it possessively.

Hux laughs, reminded of Kylo's unique situation. “Yes of course it's _good_.”

Kylo sits back with a hard light in his eyes, still buried inside Hux. Good isn't enough, apparently. He lifts Hux's other leg over his shoulder and practically folds him in half. The first jostling movement alone shakes a groan loose from Hux's chest, add then Kylo starts thrusting again.

Hux digs his nails into Kylo's back and moans, “ _Fuck_.”

“You’re so fucking loud, I don't even need to read your mind,” Kylo sneers, caught up in the wave of power and pleasure.

“When you manage to fuck me _correctly_ ,” Hux scoffs, which, as intended, only provokes Kylo into fucking him harder. “Oh, my fucking god,” he immediately sobs.

Orgasm has never been the point of sex for Hux (insert badly paraphrased journey/destination aphorism here), but holy shit, he thinks as this one hits him. If every orgasm was like this, he'd have a problem.

Years later, Hux returns to the wreckage of his mortal coil. Kylo is licking tears from his face. It's equal parts absurd, mildly disgusting, and… sweet. (All synonyms, as far as Hux is concerned.)

As soon as Kylo sees his eyes clear he pushes closer for sloppy, tired kisses. The unhurried drag of tongues soothes Hux.

“Well?” He murmurs finally.

Kylo hums interrogatively, turning Hux's face up so he can suck at his throat.

“Are you going to finish fucking me?” Kylo's still lodged deep inside him, hard and aching, but he seems to have forgotten.

“In a minute,” he growls. “Feels nice.”

Hux clenches deliberately and Kylo bites him. They both moan.

Kylo eventually starts moving again, unhurried. Hux has to admit, the slow, easy rhythm is infinitely more pleasurable on his oversensitive body.

“Is it not good for you?” Hux asks groggily after a moment. His brain is slow and soft and it doesn’t occur to him that he doesn’t want to have this conversation right now if the answer is indeed yes.

“Hux, it’s wonnnnnderful,” Kylo moans, dragging out the word. His tongue slips into the dip of Hux’s collarbone and Hux inhales sharply at the surprise of slick heat against his skin.

When Hux doesn’t continue, he bites at his collarbone. “What are you thinking?”

Hux scowls without conviction. “There are subtler ways of asking that.”

“Subtlety,” Kylo says with contempt.

Hux snorts. Kylo bites at his lip. “I just—it seems like you should have come with me.”

“I do, usually,” Kylo agrees mysteriously. He sees Hux wind up for a snide comment and relents with a smile. “When I can feel you come.”

Hux scowls with conviction. “Fucking hell, you _are_ always listening.”

Kylo shoves Hux’s legs back up, pushing himself upright. “I listen when it helps us communicate,” he says tightly, fucking Hux with what seems like a spiteful amount of force, punching groans out of him that are half protest and half entreaty. “Which is always, since what you say and what you think seem to have nothing to do with each other.”

“Fine,” Hux gasps. “I want… you to keep fucking me until I can get hard and come again.”

Kylo makes a decidedly amenable noise. “I can do that,” he says breathlessly, eyes locked on Hux's. His gaze is intense and open, like he’s waiting for Hux to say more. So eager to please, Hux observes, when he's not eager to piss off.

Hux curls his hand around the back of Kylo’s head and pulls him down so he can bite his earlobe. “Step down as Supreme Leader and be my weapon.” Kylo braces himself on his forearms with his hot breath blasting Hux's neck, and drives into him harder, jarring the entire enormous bed. Hux is pleasantly surprised he hasn’t crossed a line. “Let the Resistance go; they’re— _fuck_ , they’re—nothing and can do nothing. Let go of your goddamn past. Be only Kylo Ren, weapon of the empire and servant and protector of the emperor. Be—shit, Kylo, be _only_ _mine_ ,” Hux hisses into his ear, and the timing is unreasonably perfect: Kylo slams into him one last time as he says this and spills, grating out a wounded sob that plucks at Hux’s gut in a way he doesn’t know how to describe or interpret.

“Fuck,” Kylo sighs hoarsely, slumping over Hux.

“I take it you don’t intend to do any of those things?”

Kylo smirks at Hux and runs a hand through his hair. “I might. Some of them.”

Hux rolls his eyes, but lets Kylo kiss him. It’s loose and sloppy and wet, gross and endearing. “So. I give you a piece of my mind, and you come?” Hux asks. “Counterintuitive. You always seem to want to shut me up.”

“It’s because you think louder when you can’t speak,” Kylo murmurs, making no move to disentangle them or clean up.

“I think I like sex better with you Force-blindfolded,” Hux decides.

Kylo whines in weak protest. “I like feeling you feeling me.”

“Well, I’d like to feel twice the orgasm, too,” Hux snaps.

Kylo raises his head, eyes suddenly clear and sharp. “I can do that,” he says. His voice is quiet, almost reluctant, but completely certain.

“Really?” Hux asks, and despite himself, he’s intrigued.

“I think so,” Kylo says, laying his head back against Hux’s chest. “Later.” Hux practically watches him deflate.

They lie there together for minutes, breathing quietly but not asleep. Kylo softens inside him and come dries between them. Hux can't remember the last stretch of peace between them this long.

Kylo finally pulls out, sighing with great satisfaction, and leans up to kiss Hux. He even approaches and waits for a visible sign of impatience before he touches his mouth to Hux's. It's so barely-there it's not a kiss. It would be infuriating if Hux were even vaguely capable of getting hard again right now.

But he's not, so it's nice. Sparing points of hot, wet contact and their breaths loud in his ears and now and then the graze of Kylo's teeth. Hux forgot how fond Kylo is of kissing him.

“What are you thinking,” he murmurs, as he moves so that Hux's open mouth slides over his chin.

“That if you keep asking that question, I'll kick you out of this room,” Hux says amiably.

“Please,” Kylo says, which is a first. Not the very first, technically, but it's the most seriously he's ever said the word by far.

Hux sighs. “I meant what I said. You're a weapon, not a dictator. You need direction.”

Kylo shakes off the hand Hux has pressed to his cheek. He looks angry, but Hux guesses he's just grumpy about being forced to look uncomfortable truths in the face.

“Why change anything externally?” It's shockingly close to conceding Hux's point.

Hux smiles. “So you can go off on your little field trips and scare people for me, and you don't have to come to the budget meetings, and you don't have to embarrass yourself in front of dignitaries who have had more grammar classes than your entire education put together.” He bites at Kylo's chin, the only thing he can reach without difficulty.

Kylo looks suspiciously down at him. “That does sound… more my speed.”

Hux sneers, and sees that Kylo heard how teenaged it sounded, illustrating his point.

Kylo scowls and rakes his teeth over his throat. “Fuck you.”

“Again?” Hux asks in mock surprise despite the shot of adrenaline that floods his stomach.

“Do you want to?” Kylo asks, his voice nakedly uncertain. He shifts to press his half hard cock against Hux's belly. His expression is so guilelessly tentative. Hux wonders if it's a function of his inability to eavesdrop.

“I won’t be helping,” Hux chuckles with a shrug.

Kylo subsides, setting his chin on Hux's shoulder. Hux squirms as his breath tickles his ear. Kylo grins and kisses him again. He's behaving suspiciously like a puppy whose master has finally come home and Hux finds that he very much likes that image: the emperor and his hound. He lets Kylo kiss him until they fall asleep.


End file.
